


Of Concubines and Kings

by Dragonsquill (dragonsquill)



Series: Dragons and Kings [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Concubines, Desert AU, Dragons, Harem, Illustrated, M/M, kings - Freeform, original fantasy universe au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:23:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsquill/pseuds/Dragonsquill
Summary: The dwarves of the Lonely Mountain select their heirs through a Voyage through the desert to the Mountain where the souls of their gods live.  Those who are found worthy are granted a Companion and, upon their return, a special Gift.For Kili, son of the king and his favorite concubine, being chosen by the gods is both a great honor and a concern - becoming Heir puts him at odds with his half-brother, Fili, even though the two are deeply in love.Fili, meanwhile, has a plan of his own to see that they will never have to fight for the throne.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linane/gifts).



Kíli’s Voyage had gone well. Better than expected, perhaps, considering the number of his tutors who had urged his father to “give it another year or two” before sending Kíli on his pilgrimage down the Great River.

“He’s a bit . . . irresponsible,” Gloin had warned and, “He’ll get himself killed because he won’t slow down and think,” Dwalin claimed and “He’ll forget the ritual to call the dragon!” Balin said.

But one person had stood always at Kíli’s side: his brother, Fíli.

“He’ll do fine, Great Father, May We Live in Prosperity Under Your Rule,” Fíli had assured Thorin. “You know the dragons choose their mates. If there’s one for him, it’ll be for the person he is, not someone anyone else wants him to be. He’ll have the same heart and soul in five years that he has now.”

That Fíli’s defense of him made his heart jump all over the place was something Kíli kept to himself. Not that he thought it was much of a secret – he wore his emotions right there on his face, and he figured he had a pretty goofy level of adoration whenever he looked at Fíli. Certainly it showed up in Fíli’s calmer, more steady expressions: the depth of his love for Kíli.

But they were half-brothers, heirs to the throne through their father’s favorite concubine (Kíli’s mother) and his first wife (Fíli’s). Both would stand in line for the throne, if Kíli was found worthy by Mahal and Uslukh, the great dragons.

Being in love with each other was not allowed.

At the moment, however, all that was secondary to the successful completion of his Voyage. He was bone-tired, dusty, sweaty, and sunburned, but he had returned triumphant after his three-month journey to the Lonely Mountain: a small dragon was curled on top of his backpack, sleeping peacefully.

The dragon’s name was Charcoal, and he was an absolute brat when he was awake, but Kíli adored him already. He hoped Fíli’s Cinnamon would approve – she had strong opinions, indeed.

Kíli gently straightened the pack and looked up at the long rows of stairs leading to the entrance of the Blue Mountain, kingdom of the Dwarves. He still had a thirty-minute climb to the great hall, and he sincerely hoped Charcoal would sleep through it.

He didn’t need the little lizard biting the King at exactly the wrong moment.

All he really wanted to do was take a long, hot bath and then find Fíli to tell him the news and introduce him to Charcoal, followed by approximately three days of nonstop sleep. He’d told the dragon all about Fíli on the walk back, knowing that talking to his new companion was important to Charcoal learning and responding to the dwarven language. It had been freeing, in a way, to chatter freely about how much he adored Fíli without having to worry about disapproving frowns and drawn-out lectures about the impossibility of being with Fíli when they would one day dual for the throne. Thus far, they were the only two children of the King to be accepted by a dragon. Kíli wasn’t even slightly interested in dueling Fíli; he just wanted to see him.

He knew, however, that he would be met at the gates by either Dwalin or Balin, as his father’s closest confidantes, to receive a traditional gift for becoming a full Heir. He would have to accept both their congratulations and their gift before he could even think about a food, rest, and Fíli.

That bath was feeling awfully far away.

\------

Dwalin was pleased to see him, in his own gruff way. Dwalin, a dragon-bond half-brother of their father, held the position of First House in the Kingdom – their father’s right-hand-dwarf. His dragon was curled around his shoulders, dark brown and gold and looking as fierce and judgmental as Dwalin ever did. “I knew you’d succeed,” he said as soon as Kíli was through the door.

“Interesting,” Kíli shot back, “since you told Thorin I wouldn’t.”

Only in the company of closest family did Kíli ever call his father by name. He was, at all other times, Great Father, etc etc.

Dwalin scowled. Kíli grinned.

“Male or female?” he asked, instead of responding to Kíli’s well-deserved comment.

“Male.”

Dwalin made a considering sound. Males were much more plentiful than females – Fíli’s Cinnamon had been the first in two generations. “Name?”

Kíli glanced over his shoulder at the sleek black and gray creature nestled on his pack. “Charcoal,” he said, and grinned again at Dwalin’s groan.

“Why can’t the two of you come up with proper names?” he demanded, but Kíli only laughed and assured him Charcoal was the perfect name for his new companion.

Dwalin huffed and puffed a bit, but there was little he could do about it. No one could name a dragon save his Companion. He’d never forgiven Fíli for the name Cinnamon, especially for a female.

Arash, Dwalin’s dragon, leaned forward, studying Charcoal and making a low hum in his chest. He was as scarred as his dwarven Companion, streaks of broken scales along one flank, one eye sealed shut. Dwalin and Arash had once dueled Thorin and Arken for the throne.

They had lost, and Arash had paid the price.

Kíli reached automatically to rest his fingertips against Charcoal’s sleek, unmarred flank, rising and falling with the tired little dragon’s steady breaths. Fíli’s Cinnamon was a rare female, larger and hotter than the males. Kíli was thrilled to have a dragon companion – but his chest hurt at the thought of Charcoal facing his brother’s Companion in battle one day.

It was not war Kíli wanted with his elder brother. But then, he doubted Dwalin, who had always been Thorin’s closest friend and staunchest supporter, had wanted to fight their future king, either.

“Fine,” Dwalin finally sighed, shaking his head at the foolishness of youth. “This way. Your….” He paused a moment, an odd expression crossing his face. “Your Gift is waiting.”

“I suppose it would be a waste of breath to ask for a bath and a change of clothes first?” Kíli hazarded.

“That is…provided, as a part of the Gift selected for you,” Dwalin said, and there was that strange hesitation in his voice again.

Kíli’s eyebrows went up. “That sounds interesting.”

“Yes.” Dryly. “It is. Follow me.”

\-----------

Kíli’s heart sank as he realized where they were going.

He’d been hoping they would head for the armory, as Fíli had upon his return, and receive custom armor perfectly suited for his fighting style and the inclusion of a dragon’s fire at his call. Instead, they turned down the long, well-guarded corridor that led to the royal harems.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

As an Heir, Kíli would, of course, be gifted with a harem and concubines, to ensure the continuation of Durin’s line. He’d been raised in the harem, by both his mother and her sister-mothers, at least the ones who were suitably maternal. Only upon reaching his 60th year had he been moved into the palace with his various half-siblings who had been chosen to stand the Voyage.

He hadn’t been back since then, and he didn’t want to be back now.

Kíli wanted Fíli, not a collection of women taken from their home and brought to the Blue Mountain to mother his children.

“Already?” he asked, as they passed the first set of guards who stood to defend the royal concubines and children. “But Fíli still doesn’t have even one concubine-”

“Much to his father’s disapproval,” Dwalin growled. “You know how important it is that you-” he cut himself off.

And snarled.

The dragon on his shoulder growled his grumpy agreement.

“What is it?” Kíli asked, starting to feel concerned by Dwalin’s odd behavior. Dwalin was a dwarf who spoke rarely, but never second-guessed himself when he did.

He could practically hear Dwalin’s teeth grinding as he said, “Yours is a special circumstance.”

Why in the world Dwalin would be angry about Kíli receiving a concubine, Kíli had no idea. Dwalin had three of his own, after all. Maybe he was just annoyed at anything that hinted at a change from tradition.

Dwalin was not at all a fan of the changing world.

Resigned to his fate, and thinking quickly about how he would explain to this woman that he just wasn’t interested, Kíli followed in his uncle’s footsteps as they turned from the familiar halls of the king’s harem down an unfamiliar side tunnel.

They came to a stop outside an ornate door with two guards standing by. One of the guards winked at Kíli – Bifur, tall, silent, but well-known to all the royal children.

Kíli’s nerves settled, just a bit, at the familiar face.

“You’ll go through here,” Dwalin said, looking distinctly uncomfortable now. “There’s a bath made in the room to the right. Clean up, and then continue through to the next room.” He made a face as if he had just bitten into something sour. Arash fluttered his wings and stuck his nose in the air. “See you don’t continue on until you’re cleaned up and properly dressed.”

“All . . . right,” Kíli said, his brows drawing together in confusion. This all seemed to be turning into something of a mystery. Not that he knew anything, really, about receiving new concubines; Fíli was the first of their generation to successfully become an Heir, and Kíli only the second. But he didn’t know of any time his father went into the harem and bathed alone.

Dwalin nodded, and Bifur opened the door to let him in to his new royal harem.

The entrance was stone, of course, with streaks of natural gold shining in the fresh lanterns. Like his father’s harem, this first room was small, with three doors leading off. Curiosity demanded that Kíli poke his nose behind the left and forward doors first, but the odor he suspected was wafting none-too-gently from his clothes made him turn directly right and into an opulent bathing room.

The tub was cut directly into the stone, complete with seats and a gentle curve comfortable for leaning against. The room smelled of crackling fire and pine, and steam rose from the water in scented waves.

Kíli groaned and gently pulled off his bag, setting it down and starting to strip.

Charcoal woke up at the jostling, lifting his small head and blinking red eyes that smoldered from his tiny face. The dragon yawned and stretched, showing both needle-sharp teeth and inch long talons as he did so.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Kíli greeted him, tossing the last of his clothes before squatting in front of his companion. “Ready for a nice, hot bath before we get thrown to the wolves?”

Charcoal tilted his head quizzically before making a pleased rumble and spreading his wings, leaping gracefully into the air and soaring into the hot water with a blissful sigh and gurgle.

Kíli laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and followed the dragon in.

Dragons loved water – as long as it was almost hot enough to boil a dwarf – and Charcoal spread his wings and kicked his feet and had a lovely float-about as Kíli scrubbed his body and hair. Kíli knew a good bit about dragons, of course – all princes were taught about them, and he’d known Thorin and Dwalin’s, if only from a distance. It was Cinnamon who’d taught him the most, though, as Fíli had insisted they meet and carefully worked at making sure she felt comfortable in Kíli’s company. Like most females of legend, Cinnamon was aloof and rather self-important, but she had grudgingly accepted Kíli as the friend of her Companion.

A friend and, of course, a great deal more, though they weren’t allowed to-

Kíli sighed.

It was tempting to stay there in the bath as long as possible, playing with Charcoal and feeling all those strange little sparks of affection the little dragon brought out in his chest since Charcoal had chosen him. It would mean relaxing his muscles and putting off dealing with his new….gift…as long as possible. He was tired enough that he could probably even fall asleep on the warm stone floor, wrapped in soft towels and enjoying being properly surrounded and far from the heat of the sun.

But it would also mean more minutes or hours until he saw Fíli, introduced Fíli to Charcoal, Charcoal to Cinnamon. Before he was with the family he adored but wasn’t allowed to have.

With a low sigh, Kíli pulled himself out of the wonderful tub, reaching back and gently bringing out a softly complaining Charcoal as well.

“We’ll have a proper soak soon, I promise,” he said as he grabbed one of the incredibly soft towels and set to work drying Charcoal off, “with Fíli and Cinnamon. Remember? I told you about them.”

Charcoal chirped and rolled up in the towel, looking pleased, even as his talons ripped shreds through the cloth.

“Right, then, you just keep destroying that while I get dressed,” Kíli encouraged. He’d learned immediately upon meeting Charcoal that his dragon loved destroying things – his shirt had been a testament to that within moments of their first introduction.

The clothing set out for him was as rich as the bath and towel: beautifully woven cloth lined in the softest of fur. Every piece fit perfectly, right down to the soft boots that would be no good outside but were perfect for relaxing in what was meant to serve as an extension of his home. The shoulders were reinforced in leather – designed for a dragon to hold on as his Companion moved about the mountains. A beautifully polished bronze mirror reflected him – wet haired but otherwise handsome in his fresh clothing.

He straightened his shoulders. “All right, Charcoal,” he said. “We have to get this over with, and then we can go see Fíli.”

His heart fluttered at the thought.

Tonight was meant to be special…for the two of them. Meant to be….

He sighed, untangled his symbol of the gods from the wad of destroyed towel, and lifted Charcoal in his arms.

Together, they walked through the door leading deeper into the concubine’s chambers.

As expected, the door led to the sumptuous bedroom of an Heir, streaked with gold and overcome by a bed large enough for five dwarves to sleep comfortably. And on that bed-

Kíli’s breath caught.

_Beautiful._

Square and strong, long blond hair and strong muscles under skin speckled with golden curls and sleek lines of black paint where clothing should be.

Paint, sliding along the strong arms, over the shoulders, and down to-

Something hot tightened low in Kíli’s belly.

His eyes trailed up, over collarbones circled in black paint, to a lovely mouth curved into a self-satisfied smile.

His heart pounded, and he almost laughed and almost cried as he saw dimples and smug blue eyes and falls of honeyed hair.

He had never seen anything more erotic and beautiful and just wonderful in his life.

“Fíli,” he breathed, as Cinnamon lifted her sleek red head and blinked pleased golden eyes at him.

“Kíli,” Fíli purred back, and every bit of Kíli’s blood rushed to other areas.

“But how-”

Insufferably smug, and incredibly beautiful, Fíli said, “I knew you’d earn your dragon, and your Gift.” He stretched, and Kíli drank in the incredible sight of all that perfect skin and paint and-

“So I made sure it was _exactly_ what you wanted.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired by [a gorgeous work of art by Linane!](http://linane-art.tumblr.com/post/156505666306/of-concubines-and-kings-fullsizealternative)!! She was kind enough to let me tell his story - and help come up with it AND beta it!


	2. Chapter 2

In truth, the first seeds of Fíli’s plan were planted even before he arrived in Kíli’s new quarters to present himself for preparation, when he was packing for his Voyage while Kíli watched with worried eyes. At that point, there was hope that Fíli would not be chosen and become an Heir, and his sudden and secret plan to become Kíli’s concubine would be easier to pull off. 

But then, of course, he had traveled into the Lonely Mountain and met Cinnamon, and he wouldn’t give her bossy, beautiful, loving company up for the world.

She did, however, prove something of a complication to his plan. 

Admittedly, if Kíli wasn’t chosen, he could conceivably become Fíli’s concubine instead. But Fíli couldn’t imagine a world where a dragon wouldn’t want Kíli; they were known as amazing judges of character, sent by Mahal to select Heirs who would serve their people well. Kíli was beloved with good reason – he was warm and loving, if a bit too impetuous. Fíli had never doubted Kíli would be Chosen.

(And, if truth be told, very rarely doubted that he, himself would, arrogant as that may seem.)

If they were both to be Heirs, then, his determination that they be together would be that much harder to achieve. Not that he was going to let that stop him. Fíli could be fully as stubborn as the Great King when he wanted to be. 

Three years passed, and Fíli thought up and discarded intricate plan after intricate plan, including but not limited to: cross dressing and passing himself off as a beautiful woman, faking his own death just long enough to be removed from the official role of Heirs, faking a long-term injury that would make him ineligible, and throwing the eventual duel on purpose, though he couldn’t get Cinnamon to agree to the last one. She had a strong, competitive spirit. 

With Kíli’s Voyage looming and those dark eyes watching his every move with longing, Fíli tossed aside his overwrought plans and focused on finding something simple. Something straightforward. Something that used the intricate knowledge Fíli held of the royal family. As the eldest of the king’s sons and a careful student of human nature, Fíli knew most of his cousins, siblings, and mothers nearly as well as they knew themselves. As a promising heir candidate, Fíli had the additional advantage of knowing Thorin as well as anyone could, and it was this information that he used to his advantage.

First, he convinced his mother, the Queen, and Kíli’s mother, First Concubine, to be on his side. Thorin was especially fond of them both, and they happened to also be especially fond of each other and their sons, so it wasn’t terribly difficult.

“Keep him busy,” Fíli requested of his mother, Dis, who worked closely with Balin to plan the king’s itinerary. “I need him just the tiniest bit overwhelmed.”

Dis had laughed at him, right in his handsome face. “My darling, your father is always overwhelmingly busy! Didn’t you know?”

Fíli huffed. “Well, make him a tiny bit more busy so Feya can remind him about Kíli’s Voyage Gift while he doesn’t have time to fuss with it.”

Feya’s role in this was as important as Dis’s. Feya was Kíli’s mother, as outgoing and friendly as her son, and the person most likely to comfort Thorin when he was feeling tense and overwhelmed. While Dis took care of Thorin’s work life, Feya took care of his more personal needs – and she was a staunch supporter of the Fíli/Kíli love knot. Her role, which she took to with typical enthusiasm, involved getting Thorin at his most tired and overwhelmed, and taking the moment to remind him of Kíli’s upcoming Voyage and the need to plan his Gift.

“And then I suggest you arrange the Gift instead,” she said, with rather less patience than Dis had the fourth time Fíli had gone over the plan with her. “I do understand, Fíli. Now do stop quizzing me on it!” 

She had kissed him on the head and given him cookies, despite his being a full-grown dwarf. He and Cinnamon wisely opted to take the cookies and go. 

Cinnamon liked to toast hers to a crisp before she ate them. 

Fíli did his part by doing all he could to assist in overloading his father. As the one identified Heir, Fíli had been taking on more responsibilities over the last several years, so the best way for him to do this was actually to make himself unavailable to help. This took some finagling on his part, given that Thorin felt it was extremely important that his Heir be well-trained and well-prepared for the possibility of being King and Master of All one day. In the end, he pulled it off by simply assuming that he would lead a large hunting party in the fall like he always did; that this really should have been passed on to Kíli or another of their half-brothers didn’t come up. Fíli had led the party for several years, was good at planning it, and so no one questioned his leading it again.

The party would be away for three weeks.

Fíli, of course, made sure that Kíli came along, as well. He was one of the best bowmen in the mountain, and if perhaps they sneaked off for a few minutes here and there to be alone, no one would care. It was practically expected on these expeditions. More than one marriage was planned among the men and women during the hunt for fall game; it was generally an excellent time to plan without the well-meaning but endlessly annoying assistance of parents and other family.

When their eyes lingered too long over the roaring fires, or their hands brushed, or their breath caught, no one made a comment about it. But each moment only made Fíli more certain that he would find a way for them to be together – truly together, not having to hide in corners or pretend they were just brothers. 

He returned home to learn that his plan had worked.

“He’s said for you to take over all the planning for Kíli’s Gift,” Dis informed him as he slipped sneakily through the door to her bedroom. “He says you deserve it for running off and enjoying the sunshine while he was trapped overviewing trade agreements, in fact.”

Fíli’s return grin might have been the tiniest bit smug.

From there, the greatest issue he had was in keeping the entire plan secret.

Like all young dwarves going on their Journey, Kíli was incredibly nosy about what his Gift would be. Gifts were bestowed whether a dragon joined the new adult on his return or not; either way, a royal dwarf who had made the Voyage to Erebor and returned would be given a Gift. Two were generally prepared, one in case a dragon returned and one if not. In Fíli’s case, for instance, one beautiful set of armor was prepared, but it could be given with or without the additions that made it safe for a flame-breathing creature to perch on the shoulders. 

Kíli would need no such contingency plan.

His Gift would be the same either way.

And Fíli was determined his somewhat hyper and very curious young brother not learn the truth too early.

Luckily, Kíli assumed that Thorin, Balin, or Feya was in charge of his Gift, and so spent his time either bugging them or bugging Fíli into spying on them. Fíli, ever helpful, did, indeed spy – and reported back all their fascinating activities, such as terrifying recruits, spilling soup on a treaty, and telling Thorin he missed three notes while playing the harp. 

Kíli growled under his breath when he was frustrated, which was both amusing and a little….enticing, as far as Fíli was concerned. Cinnamon did not agree. She always puffed out and let out just enough smoke to warn Kíli that making angry noises at Fíli was Not Allowed in her book. This conveniently ended any conversations about Kíli’s Gift and his frustration.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise, you know,” Fíli admonished as he stroked Cinnamon’s head and reminded her that we don’t burn family. “That’s the whole point.”

“I like knowing things, Fíli!” Kíli sulked. 

“Then it stinks to be you just now,” Fíli shot back.

Kíli’s eyebrows got angry, but he caught himself before the growl came out. Wisely.

\---------

A Journey could take anywhere from six weeks to three months, depending. The longer it stretched, the more likely that the dwarf in question had been Chosen – it took time to get to know a dragon, and learn to interact with it.

Fíli started preparing for Kíli’s Gift the night after he left the Blue Mountains. 

He went to the Ur family to set up Kíli’s new accommodations. Bifur and Bofur were among the small group of elite guards allowed to oversee the harems; Bofur’s brother Bombur was in charge of the planning, architectural, and cleaning crews for the area. 

Bofur was openly shocked at the request. 

“You…are giving your brother a concubine?” he asked, exchanging a look with his generally-silent cousin. “After all these years of refusing your own?”

“Yes,” Fíli answered. “But he’s only going to need a very small hall.” He held his fingers less than an inch apart. “Something like Dwalin’s. Not one of the huge ones.”

“If he comes back with a dragon, your father’s going to want him in the large secondary hall,” Bofur argued. “The one he wants you in.”

“Yes, well, Kíli’s Gift is my responsibility. And I say he needs only a small one.” Fíli considered a moment. “With a truly excellent bath.”

“But he’s not going to want a concubine-”

Fíli grinned, slow and sly and a bit playful. “He’s going to want this one,” Fíli assured him. “I promise.”

Bofur’s brows drew together in confusion. “But since he was forty all he’s wanted is . . .” His voice trailed off, and then his hazel eyes widened. “You can’t be serious!”

“Gifts are sacred,” Fíli said seriously. “They can never be revoked.”

Bofur laughed. He had one of those warm, infectious laughs that made him a favorite of the royal women and children – one of the reasons he had held this coveted post so long. “You’re mad!”

“Only a little,” Fíli allowed, grinning.

Bifur made a small, thoughtful noise before gesturing at them both. 

“You know a room?” Bofur asked, and Bifur nodded.

He led them down a side hall and opened a door leading into an entranceway. A few steps more, and he opened the door to the bath.

Fíli beamed. “It’s perfect!” he said, and Bifur smiled back, warm and pleased among the twisted scars of his face.

\--------

One of their half-sisters was the scout who reported that Prince Kíli was returning – and with a dragon.

It wasn’t a general announcement of course; Leda only ran in and told the small company that worked with Thorin: Dwalin, Balin, Dis, and Fíli. No one else was to know until the official ceremony. “He’ll be here in a day,” Leda reported. “I’d guess around the fourth hour after noon.” 

“I have to go,” Fíli had immediately announced and, as he had a Gift to arrange, no one questioned him. 

His mother did toss him a wink, though.

Fíli rushed through the halls, grinning to himself as he made his way down to Kíli’s new rooms. “It’s time!” he announced as he rushed into the kitchens and storage attached to the halls. The harem’s main caretaker was there, as always, standing ready to make or find teas or pillows or curtains or oil or anything else that might be needed.

“Ah, Heir Fíli,” Dori said, looking as well-put together and fussy as ever. “You’re still certain you want to do this? Despite any consequences?” He raised his eyebrows. “For you or anyone else?”

Fíli waved a hand dismissively. “Everyone involved is a volunteer, and I’m going to claim I ordered them all to take part. It’ll be fine. But I need to get ready.” He grinned. “I want to do this right!”

“Very well,” Dori allowed. “I’ll call the artists.” He sighed and picked up a tray of cups and fresh tea. “You go ahead and get into the bath.”

A field of butterflies went off in Fíli’s stomach, but he studiously ignored them. He wanted this, and he had planned it and made it real. He and Kíli were going to be together, as they wanted to be, as they were born to be.

This was going to work.


	3. Chapter 3

“You-” Kíli still felt as if his heart hadn’t quite figured out how to breathe properly again. “You gave me _you_?”

Fíli’s smile softened a bit but never looked uncertain. “Well, I am what you wanted, aren’t I?”

Kíli felt his smile coming – one of the broad, goofy ones that he was often teased for by their half siblings. But he couldn’t help it. “How...?”

The dragon in his arms stirred and hummed, and Cinnamon did the same. Cinnamon’s sharp teeth shone in the firelight, and she half-lifted her wings in a way that seemed to double her size. Charcoal made a low, questioning noise.

“Go ahead,” Fíli urged her, running two fingers over her head and neck. “Go say hello.” But his eyes, blue and ever-watchful, never left Kíli’s face.

Kíli felt a slow blush work its way up from his shoulders.

Cinnamon glided delicately along Fíli’s arm, her small feet barely smudging the paint – paint, Kíli realized, and suddenly he wanted to be the one smudging it, the one licking and kissing and-

And he could.

He could because his brother had done this incredible, insane thing.

He licked his lips. Fíli’s eyes followed the movement, and his mouth curved into that satisfied little smirk Kíli knew all too well.

“The dragons,” Fíli reminded him, and Kíli cursed softly under his breath. Fíli laughed at him.

“I’ve a room all ready for them next door,” he said. “Cinnamon will want to show it to him. It’s got great beds and cubbies and is plenty hot to keep them happy.”

Kíli blinked. In his arms, Charcoal wiggled and kicked a bit until Kíli, still staring at skin and gold and crisp black lines, loosened his hold and let the little black dragon hop onto the bed where Cinnamon stood waiting, her head lifted high like the tiny queen she was.

In retrospect, Kíli would feel a bit guilty for not paying attention to the two dragons greeting each other. It was a rare occurrence, and he knew in his heart how important it was that Charcoal and Cinnamon get along. But though he was an excellent Companion, his eyes in that moment were only for Fíli, and the way Fíli looked at him and sprawled like an invitation to everything they had secretly desired for years.

There was a bit of posturing between the two, including Charcoal wisely keeping his head lower than Cinnamon’s, and a bit of low growling, and one puff of hot smoke from the female before she looked back at Fíli.

“You go right ahead,” he said warmly, letting his gaze leave Kíli’s for only a moment. “Show him your new room, just for the two of you.”

She chirruped, and spread her wings. Charcoal did the same, and they leapt into the air, gliding – expertly in Cinnamon’s case, a bit awkwardly in Charcoal’s – to an opening in the wall that fit them just perfectly. The last Kíli saw of Charcoal was the flicker of red at the end of his long black tail.

Fíli’s smile was soft and sweet for a moment, watching them go, and then he looked back at Kíli. 

“I’m so glad that worked,” he said. “I really didn’t want them watching.”

“Watching?” Kíli asked, and his voice was half smoke and half nervous squeak. “What, exactly, would they be watching?”

Fíli stretched. It was a slow and very deliberate move, back arching, muscles tightening. “You getting in this bed with me, where you belong,” he purred, in a voice Kíli had never heard before, but that shot straight through his body, tired as it was. “And smudging all this paint up, as tradition clearly dictates.” He narrowed his eyes invitingly. “You don’t want to go against tradition, do you?”

Kíli growled.

He’d never heard that sound from himself, either. 

He would love to claim later that he climbed seductively onto the bed, but the truth is that he pounced like a young cub, bouncing once as he landed and Fíli’s arms wrapped around him. 

The kiss was deep, and long, and hot, and perfect.

Kíli panted for air as he pulled away and looked into Fíli’s thoroughly satisfied face. “How did you do this?” he asked, already wanting to kiss Fíli again.

So he did.

Slow and exploring, feeling Fíli’s hips move and his cock hardening through the loose cloth, and they weren’t hiding away in the dark this time. There was warmth, and a bed, and no one to tell them they couldn’t have this.

“You’re making it a little hard to answer,” his brother teased, “and you’re also overdressed.” He tugged at the rich clothing. “How about you take this off and I’ll give you the briefest of overviews. Details can wait for later.”

Kíli pouted. “But I just got here!”

“And you’ll be much more comfortable out of all those pesky clothes.” Fíli pushed his shoulders. “Up, up.”

Kíli sighed theatrically but sat back, reaching for the expertly detailed buttons on his shirt. 

Fíli pushed up against the pillows, his legs still between Kíli’s knees. “Slower,” he said in that new voice again. “Give me time to go over the basics.”

Kíli’s fingers faltered. “Slower?”

“Yes, Kíli. Slower.”

Kíli wasn’t, under normal circumstances, an overactive blusher, but this was all a little much. He felt his cheeks and ears growing warm under Fíli’s gaze.

But he did it.

Slowly and deliberately, if a little nervously, he worked each button free before sliding his hands under the shoulders of his shirt to slowly push it down.

“Balin convinced Thorin that he was too busy to plan your Gift. Mother and Feya convinced him I would be the best person to do it.” Fíli watched, and his eyes actually grew darker as warm skin and whirls of dark hair were slowly revealed. “Bofur and Bifur helped set everything up, and I got Dori on board a couple of days ago.”

Kíli tossed the shirt and met his brother’s pleased smile. “And since traditionally, a Gift can never be withdrawn. . .”

“Everything-by-the-book King Thorin won’t be able to bring himself to take me away from you, so to speak.” Fíli shifted and reached out, calloused fingertips trailing between Kíli’s pectorals.

Kíli shivered. “He’ll be furious,” he said, voice rough, eyes sliding half-closed. Even that light touch felt amazing, because this was Fíli.

His Fíli.

Fíli’s hand trailed down to the tie at Kíli’s waist. “I’m willing to deal with that, if you are,” he said, and with one gentle tough, the tie came free. 

“Oh,” Kíli growled, “I’m willing,” and he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Fíli’s waist and kissing him, feeling Fíli nip at his lip and lick into his mouth, and every muscle in his body was exhausted but he didn’t care. This was perfect.

Fíli obviously tried to be gentle, but his own eagerness was given away by the clumsy shove at Kíli’s pants, the faint trail of his nails along Kíli’s thighs. Kíli moaned and wiggled, trying to get the pants and soft house boots off, and Fíli’s bare toes slid over his knees and calves to help. 

Kíli hadn’t put on smalls, and in a handful of graceless moments, he was more bare than Fíli. 

“Beautiful,” Fíli said against his mouth, hands exploring everywhere they could reach. He smelled heavenly, that same lovely, rare citrus scent from the bath, with a hint of evergreen, and Kíli buried his nose in Fíli’s neck and breathed him in as his brother wrapped arms and one knee around his taller body.

Kíli’s heart was beating madly, and he could feel Fíli’s too – steadier, but just as forceful – but it wasn’t nerves or shyness. This was far too right to be nervous. 

“I love you,” he said, his kisses wilder now, on Fíli’s mouth, on his cheek, on his jaw. “I love you so much.” 

He had given up on this ever happening. 

He had accepted he would live his entire life with the person he loved most in the world, and never be able to tell the world about it.

Fíli’s hands gentled and he rolled them over, face to face on their sides. He caught Kíli’s jaw and ran a thumb over his lips, then kissed them lightly. “I love you too,” he said, his voice soft and sweet and wonderful. “We’re going to be together, Kíli. You and me.”

Kíli sighed, down to his bones and utterly happy. Every muscle in his body ached, he was so tired, but he wanted to-

Fíli chuckled. “You’re half asleep.”

“No, I’m not!” Kíli protested, over a yawn that shook his shoulders. “I want-you’re-I’m naked!”

“Mmmm, yes you are. Naked and sleepy.” A hand started petting Kíli’s arm. Kíli had been traveling nonstop for five days. He hadn’t slept well, alone under the stars, and his body ached to rest properly. And this had all just been- “I sprung a lot on you. It’s all right. You go on to sleep, Kíli. I’ll be here.”

“’M not sleepy,” Kíli insisted, even as the rush of adrenaline flooded away, and his body relaxed against his will.

“Now that sounds familiar, little brother,” Fíli said, and the last thing Kíli knew was the brush of braids against his forehead and strong arms tugging him close.


	4. Chapter 4

Fíli woke feeling warm and comfortable, but less than relaxed. His beloved Kíli was curled up in his arms, skin bare and pressed to Fíli’s own in a way that had only been possible in whispered possibilities over the last few years. As a result, one very insistent part of Fíli’s body was not in the least relaxed.

He couldn’t honestly say he minded.

“Kíli,” he said softly, not wanting to startle his brother too much; Kili kicked when shaken awake, and Fíli had his share of bruises over the last 77 years to prove it. “Kíli, love, it’s time to wake up so I can ravish you.”

Kíli let out a mutter that could have been a moan, but was more likely dream-related. He categorically denied talking in his sleep, but Fíli knew better. “Mmm?”

“Kiliiii.” Gently, Fíli rubbed Kíli’s arm. Kíli shifted and stretched, and Fíli felt a brush of Kíli’s less-than-relaxed cock against the soft cloth still falling from Fíli’s waist. 

…Maybe being kicked would be better than groping Kíli in his sleep, which was about to happen if he didn’t wake up.

“Kíli!” he said again, a little louder this time. “Love of my life, owner of my heart, I have been very patient with how tired you were last night.” Fíli tugged on the blankets Kíli had wrapped himself in, trying to reveal his prize in the firelight. “But if you don’t wake up, I will kick your naked ass out of this bed and down the hallway for the entire mountain to see!”

And, throwing all caution to the stone, he gave the bare bottom in question a decisive little smack.

Kíli did kick, but through experience and skill, his victim was an innocent pillow and not any part of Fíli’s precious person. “What?!” he demanded, blinking rapidly as he shot to a sitting position.

His hair was a tangle of knots and his warm eyes soft with sleep, but Fíli adored him, anyway.

“Good morning!” Fíli said pleasantly. He watched with satisfaction as Kíli’s gaze sharpened and traced over his chest – the paint, so carefully brushed on the day before, wasn’t quite perfectly crisp anymore, but nor was it a mess. “Are you ready to celebrate my cleverness now?”

Kíli smiled. “So, I didn’t dream all this?” he asked, his voice a little rough from sleep.

Fíli, still lounging seductively on his side, lifted his hips a little and said, “No. It’s no dream. Your brother really is a brilliant strategist.”

Kíli laughed, that delighted sound that made everyone who met him fall a little in love. “And you want me to thank you?” he asked, shifting to his hands and knees, moving forward like a leopard. “Is that it?”

Fíli, not to be outdone, ran a hand down his chest, tracing the inner line of delicate paint. “Traditionally, you should thank me by smudging all this paint that took three hours to put on,” he purred, “so everyone knows you . . . appreciate your gift.”

For a long moment, Kíli was silent, his eyes a little wide. Fíli didn’t push, even though he wanted to – he’d had weeks to get used to this reality. Kíli was new to it.

When Kíli finally spoke, there was something dark and something delicate all tangled up in his voice.

“I can do that?” he asked.

Fíli reached out a hand to him, waiting until Kíli took it. This they knew – this they had done all their lives. 

“You can,” he answered, his voice filled with all the love they’d hidden away for the last decade. “Only you, Kíli. We’ve always belonged to each other. We just get to show it to the whole world now.”

He tugged on the hand in his, twisted his wrist, and pressed Kíli’s warm fingers against the pattern of dragon scales trailing down his chest.

His heart beat once, twice, and then Kíli all but leapt forward.

This kiss was neither innocent nor searching. It was erotic, a little messy and a bit too hard, but absolutely perfect in this moment when their lives, kept carefully separate for so long, tangled together as they were meant to be.

Fíli pulled Kíli closer, deepened the kiss, ran his hands over Kíli’s back and traced the curve of his sides. “I love you,” he murmured against those lips, pushing at his brother, pushing Kíli onto his back and tucking his knees against Kíli’s hips. Kíli was hard already, and Fíli groaned at the slide of their cocks together beneath the silken cloth now pooled over Kíli’s stomach.

“Oh gods,” Kíli panted, his voice low and rough as Fíli traced his lips over rough stubble to Kíli’s neck. “You weren’t wearing anything under it?”

“No,” Fíli agreed, and rocked his hips. “And you fell asleep in nothing at all.” 

He had thought about this – the bump and slide of Kíli’s erection against his own, the heat of it – but it was nothing like his own hands, slicked in oil and stroking desperately to the image of Kíli behind his closed eyes. He hadn’t imagined the sounds Kíli made, shocked and low in his throat, or the soft-hard-heat or the scratch of dark curls. 

It was so much more-

Raw.

Kíli tasted of salt and a hint of mint from his bath, and his hands clutched at Fíli’s hair as Fíli gently took one nipple between his teeth and flicked his tongue against it. “Fíli,” Kíli moaned, and Fíli could have come from the sound of his name on those lips. 

This wasn’t going to last long, and he wanted it to last forever.

“Do you know,” he murmured against Kíli’s skin, sliding one hand down under the silk, trailing his fingers over the two of them pressed together, riding the sudden thrust of Kíli’s hips, “what I’m going to be doing while you’re learning to run a country?” 

Kíli’s hands slid to Fíli’s shoulders and gripped. “Unh?” he managed, and Fíli tightened his grip around the two of them, the hot-hard slide making both of them shudder and press together.

Fíli nipped at Kíli’s shoulders. Kíli let go of his arms to grab at his thighs, thumbs pressing into the thin black lines. “I’m going to learn how to make you fall apart. I’m going to practice taking you in my mouth and sucking until you’re screaming. I’m going to learn how to use my fingers inside you until you beg for more. I’m going to nip and scratch and lick and learn every inch of your body until I have mapped and memorized it to make you lose every word you’ve ever known.”

Kíli growled. It wasn’t a moan, nothing so passive, but a low growl in his chest and hard thrusts of his hips that made Fíli almost laugh as he had to tighten his thighs and hold on with his free hand. “Fuck,” Kíli groaned, and Fíli said:

“Yes, sweetheart. That too.”

And the sound Kíli made then struck Fíli in the chest and shot to his groin as slick heat – Kíli’s – pumped over his hand and his cock. 

“Kíli,” he breathed, looking into eyes that were wide and wild with surprise. “Kíli.” Because that name, that person, was the most sensual, most beautiful thing in the world.

Kíli twisted, tightening his hands on Fíli’s hips. “You,” he demanded, his breath coming in pants. “You too. Please. I’ve wanted to see you – for years – please Fíli-”

Fíli came, automatically trying to hold back his moans, hips jerking without rhythm, more slick, hot heat, and pleasure that was entirely new and different, shooting up his spine, arching his back as his hand fell away and slid along Kíli’s hip. 

A thumb pressed at the corner of his lips, and they parted on a loud, shameless moan as Fíli rocked on top of Kíli’s body.

“Fíli,” Kíli whispered, like a prayer to Mahal himself, and he tugged Fíli down into a kiss that missed as much as it hit, but was perfect nonetheless. 

\------

They emerged, hungry and pleasantly sore, three hours later.

The paint, so carefully and slowly brushed on, was smudged along Fíli’s ribs, and in the shape of desperate hands along his thighs. Fresh fruit and cold meats appeared with the ringing of a bell, and Kíli pouted as they slid in the bath, tracing the marks of his fingers in the scales and lines. 

“How long did it take?”

“About three hours.”

Kíli leaned down and lick-nipped a bit of the paint across Fíli’s collarbones away. “I like it.”

Fíli smiled lazily. “I can tell.” He pulled Kíli close, kissing his already swollen lips. “Don’t worry. We can get it done whenever we please.” And he popped a cherry in Kíli’s mouth, grinning and licking a bit of juice away seconds later.

Two surprisingly large splashes brought them back to the present – and two hungry, curious, lonely dragons demanding all the meat on their large tray.

Kíli laughed, reaching out to tug Charcoal into his arms as he gave his Companion a slice of venison. Cinnamon, older and wiser, simply hopped to the edge of the tub and sprawled her long body along the stone, choosing the choicest bites for herself. 

It was peaceful, and Kíli was laughing, and they belonged to each other. Cinnamon and Charcoal would never be forced to fight, he and Kíli would never be treated as enemies.

Fíli stretched, slow and utterly pleased with himself, as he soaked in his brother’s delighted laughter.


End file.
